


Safe and Secure

by Dawnwind



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid watches Heyes crack a safe and sees him in a new light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

Taking a slow breath in, the Kid stood quietly to let his eyes adjust to the dark. There was no movement, no sound other than the beating of his own heart. He felt something inside him stretch out, like the whiskers on a cat, sensitive to the smallest vibration. Kid tightened his grip on his pistol, surveying the room, visually delving into each shadowy corner. This was not the time to be surprised by the unknown. The Madison City bank was still, shuttered for the night, the money secure inside the safe until the next business day.

Safe, of course, was a relative term. Safe from prying eyes, but not from the nimble fingers of Hannibal Heyes.

"All clear," he whispered, holding the back door open wider for Heyes to slip through.

Heyes stood silently for a moment, his white-toothed grin bright in the ambient moonlight coming through the window. "Perfect."

They'd already cased the bank numerous times during business hours. This was a small branch of the state's largest financial establishment, and not known for a high volume of transactions. Except once every other month when the proceeds from silver sales came from Nevada heading for points east. Then the coffers were full for only one day, between trains.

Heyes walked confidently though the maze of desks and chairs, heading for the bank owner's office. The two teller stations, little wrought iron grills closed, loomed to the far left, separating them from the front half of the bank.

Kid passed through to the customer area to reconnoiter the entire bank, pacing Heyes from across the way, always keeping his partner in his line of sight.

Heyes stopped at each teller station as if drawn to the small amount of cash in the drawers, but he shook his head with a sigh. After bypassing those temptations, he ended up at the doorway of the one small private office.

From his vantage point between the large oak front door and the shuttered front windows, all Kid could see of his partner was a dim figure behind bars. The image twisted his stomach, and he completed his perimeter check by slipping through the small bat-wing doors on the far side of the teller counter to join Heyes.

"Kid," Heyes whispered, and the Kid could hear the smile in his voice. "You worry too much."

"I thought that was my job."

Heyes pushed his hat back on his hair, flashing an indulgent grin at his partner. "Then you do fine work."

He set a small lantern to one side and turned up the weak flame on the wick so that pale gold reached across the wooden floor to illuminate his objective—the gleaming gray safe set against the office wall. Visually inspecting the front of the safe, Heyes flexed his fingers like a piano player about to play a scale.

With his eyes on those long, gloved fingers, Kid hunkered down against the wall, settling his gun back in the holster. His heart still thrummed against his breastbone, the way it always did when they were in the midst of a heist. He never felt more alive, with all senses finely honed, and at the same time, sure that something would go horribly wrong.

"It's a Brooker 100, Kid. As simple as snitching the cooling pie out of your mama's window back home."

"You're not the one who got a whupping behind the shed whenever she discovered the pie was gone." Kid couldn't help smiling at the memory, though. Heyes had been incorrigible from the very beginning. They'd grown up barely a mile apart. Hannibal Heyes, the oldest of a small family and Jedediah Curry, the youngest of a large one. With no other boys his age in the house, Jed had gravitated to Han's house early on, and they'd rarely been a part since.

"That never stopped you from eating the pie, did it?" Heyes peeled off his leather gloves with just a hint of a smirk.

Kid watched Heyes fold the gloves carefully and tuck them into his belt. It was a ritual he'd seen countless times before, but one that somehow gave him a sense of security. This was the way it always started, Kid as lookout, Heyes cracking the safe. He loved the way Heyes lightly caressed the combination dial, turning it ever so slowly to the right with a deft hand.

Heyes exhaled and settled his ear to the metal door of the safe, just above the dial. As if echoing his partner, Kid exhaled, letting the dark bank settle around him. They were safe, unseen by the local sheriff. He could never quite convince himself that they would pull another bank job off—and when they did, it was always a exhilarating surprise, complete with money to spend. Then came the next job to plan, and the next.

Heyes was never quite satisfied. Kid suspected that Heyes liked the challenge of the unobtainable almost more than the money they had afterwards. And the money never lasted very long, so they always needed to find a way to get more. It wasn't that Heyes was greedy—when flush with greenbacks, he was the most generous man west of the continental divide. Heyes just needed a puzzle. He lived to divine the inner secrets of the combination lock and force the tumblers do his bidding.

And Kid loved to watch him. Everything about the way Heyes worked, from the minute rotations of the dial with his eyes half closed to concentrate on the tiny sounds of the tumblers dropping into place, to that smug, gratified smile of accomplishment, showed a man who found pleasure and immense pride in his work.

Heyes' dimples bit deeply into his cheeks when he grasped the handle on the front of the Brooker and pulled open the safe. "Didn't I tell you?" He waved a hand at several stacks of paper money like a conjurer displaying his latest trick.

"You did, Heyes, you did." Kid grinned, finally letting himself breathe out. No disaster this time. No lawman bursting in to lock them up. They'd beat the odds yet again. He smacked Heyes on the arm with a muted whoop of excitement.

Not much longer now and they'd be gone from this burg, hundreds of dollars richer.

Shaking out a bag he'd brought, Heyes selected four banded stacks of money. "About twenty thousand, I'd say. Enough to rest a spell in the Brown hotel—"

"With a couple of steaks a night?" Kid asked, already tasting the luxury of an expensive porterhouse. "And a bath."

"You and your baths." Heyes elbowed him, half-drunk with glee. He pushed the safe door closed again. "Then back to Devil's Hole in spring. I have a mind to…"

"No more planning!" Kid interrupted, hustling him out of the tiny office now that they were done. He pressed his hand flat against Heyes' corduroy coat, feeling the solid reality of him. "Not right now, you got months to do that, when the Hole is snowed in."

Heyes threw an arm around Kid in an expansive hug, his whole body pressed up against him. "We're not going back there in the winter, Kid, not after you had pneumonia for so long last year. It's the high life for us."

"Reckon we should call Clementine? Have a celebration?" Kid led the way through the desks and chairs to the back door.

"Clementine?"

 _Did he imagine it, or did Heyes sound disappointed at the suggestion?_

Clementine was an old friend they'd known since the Kid was sixteen. Fleeing the orphanage they'd lived in after the war, Heyes and the Kid had banished their past as Han and Jed, and struck out on their own. Trying to make a living any way they could, they'd turned to petty theft for food. Clementine's father was a grifter who liked to think he was an honest man, but he'd conned his way across the west and, in turn, taught Heyes, Kid and his daughter to do the same. After a couple of short cons, stagecoach robbery and safe cracking had been an easy transition. She often joined them when they had money to spend.

"I was thinking just us for a while, Kid." Heyes hefted the bag of money, and pushed his black hat hard onto his head. "Maybe we can send her a telegram--after Christmas."

Kid held up a finger to his mouth and peeked out the door into the alley. The sorrel and the black they'd tied up behind the neighboring saloon still stood dozing at the hitching rail. There was a spill of light from the saloon, but no one burst out to arrest them. "Go."

Heyes ducked out, melding into the darkness, and for a second, Kid's heart stuttered and galloped like a frantic horse. Only when he saw that Heyes had mounted on the black and was turning his horse in a circle did he relax incrementally. He ghosted out from the rear of the bank and caught up the sorrel's reins, vaulting into the saddle.

They rode out in tandem, safe in the knowledge that it would be whole day before anyone even looked in the safe. No one ever did any banking on a Sunday morning, which allowed Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry ample time to get away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galloping through the foothills after midnight was a good way to cripple a horse, with all the unseen rocks, gopher holes and such that could trip up a good animal, but Kid didn't want to slow down until they were well away from Madison City.

Venus was bright among the stars, and the half moon rode a crest of blue-gray clouds over the western mountains when Heyes signaled for a stop next to a small river.

"Kid, you're riding like the hounds of hell are after us, not some sleepy sheriff who doesn't even know we absconded with the money." He dropped down out of the saddle and stretched, digging a fist into the small of his back.

The black horse dipped his head into the water, snorting through his nostrils.

Reining in, Kid was sure he was still flying across the low lands on his horse, his heart pounding so hard he could feel the accompanying throb at his temple. He busied himself by taking off his hat and rubbing the back of his head.

"What's the matter?" Heyes tugged on the bridle of the sorrel, laying one hand on Kid's thigh, alongside his holster.

That touch, singularly Heyes', since no other human would ever dare touch the famed gunslinger Kid Curry so familiarly and so close to his pistol, soothed Kid in ways he couldn't even describe. He let out a noisy breath, half-ashamed at whatever had spooked him, and yet still half-haunted by what could have happened. Visions of Pinkerton agents and angry posses baring down on them with guns blazing receded to the back of his brain, fodder for fever dreams once again.

"You all right?" Heyes asked, slapping him on the thigh before going over to survey the potential campsite. "What's got you riled up?"

"Nuthin'," Kid muttered, watching Heyes' back. He dismounted, watching the way Heyes bent to pick up a couple of sticks to make a fire.

Heyes only turned his back on people he trusted. And he trusted Kid. The Kid had kept that trust safe for so long that it—that Heyes-- felt like a part of his soul. He couldn't imagine being without his other half. The scant years they'd been separated, when Kid was in his late teens, had been the worst time of his life. Because he'd spent some of that time behind bars, he recognized that most of his fears stemmed from those dark days.

Heyes, on the other hand, did not harbor such memories. Whatever dark phantoms haunted him, he never seemed quite as concerned with jail as the Kid did. He was more apt to fuss over practical things like details about the next robbery or finding the right equipment for a job. Kid sometimes wondered if Heyes mentally ticked Kid's presence off his list of necessities for a heist the way he did his pistol and a good lantern.

"Heyes?" Kid started, not even sure what he wanted to ask. There was just something unsettled inside him. Something fierce and needy and dark that floated just beyond his reach. He wanted…what? Security?

 _Heyes._

He wanted Heyes, to keep him close and safe.

"What?" Heyes glanced over at him in the act of lighting the tiny campfire. Reflections of the flames danced in his brown eyes, giving him an otherworldly cast straight out of the fairy stories that Grandpa Curry used to tell. Heyes grinned, all dimples and teeth as the twigs caught and burned.

Kid stared over the fire at him, surprised at how much he wanted Heyes. He hitched a breath, dragging air past what felt like a hangman's noose. He could still feel the press of Heyes' body against his, that long, lean length fitted into him, as if they'd been pieced together by a seamstress. He'd never kissed Heyes—not the way he would some flirtatious girl in a low-cut dress. But he wanted to. He wanted to something awful.

Which was wrong in so many ways. Any man of the cloth would say so. Kid had had Bible verses drummed into his head at the orphanage—certainly one of those condemned kissing another man and wanting to lie with him. Something from the chapter Isaiah floated into his brain, but he couldn't cite the verse. It wasn't important. After all the other things they'd done, surely breaking another one of the commandments wasn't that much worse? Besides, kissing another man wasn't one of the ten commandments, unless Moses himself had gone up to that burning bush and gotten another set.

"Kid, you're dead on your feet."

Heyes was suddenly standing right in front of him—no longer crouched by the fire--and when had that happened? Maybe he really was one of the fairy people, because Kid felt bewitched.

"Grab your bedroll and stretch out, I'll take the first watch," Heyes said.

"I guess I am." Kid blinked and found his tongue. That was it, he was exhausted. Or something, because he wasn't in his right mind. He tugged the bedroll off of the sorrel.

"I'm hankering for some coffee, to keep me awake." Heyes continued talking while he ground-tied the two horses and took off the saddles. "You want a cup?"

"I'm going to get some shut-eye." Kid was grateful for something ordinary to do because his brain was spinning. He pulled off his boots and unbuckled his gun belt, carefully placing the holster right next to his bedroll for easy access, should he need the gun at a moment's notice. He curled up under the blanket with his feet toward the meager warmth of the fire, settling his hat over his face. That gave the appearance that he was sleeping, but allowed him to watch Heyes.

Heyes puttered around, putting the campsite to rights and feeding the horses. Kid listened to the clatter of cookware as Heyes emptied the saddlebags, and then the unmistakable sound of the coffee grinder which gave off an almighty squeak every time the crank made one full turn. As usual, Heyes swore under his breath at the sound, but the pay-off was the wonderful aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. The hominess of the smell washed over Kid, reminding him of so many other layovers just like this one.

Heyes filled the old battered kettle with water and poured the ground coffee inside, whistling Oh Susanna as he worked. He knelt, butt resting on his boot heels, coaxing the fire higher so that the water would boil.

Kid watched, taking in his partner's long lean legs, the way his leather gloves hugged those talented fingers, and Heyes' angular jaw, limned with firelight. He lingered on Heyes' wide, expressive mouth, surprised at how interested he was to kiss those lips. Where in all hell had these perversions come from?

Except, deep inside, he didn't think they were perversions at all. This seemed exactly right, part of who they were. Heyes trusted him implicitly, and he trusted Heyes no less. There was no one else on the earth he could say the same thing about.

Even Clementine, whom both of them had dabbled with. He'd always had the suspicion that given the circumstances, Clem would just as cheerfully blackmail one of them as lie with them.

 

He cast his memory back to the last time—Clementine between he and Heyes in her big brass bed, her long brown hair tickling his belly when she turned to guide Heyes inside her. Kid had straddled her from the back, rubbing his member against the curve of her derriere. He'd thrown out a hand to anchor himself, grabbing hold of the nearest body part.

It was Heyes' wrist, he'd known the shape and feel immediately. That touch had brought him to completion just as Clementine shuddered through her own petit mort. With Clem's head thrown back against his chest, Kid had stared straight into Heyes' deep brown eyes. He'd seen a realization, a sudden insight in Heyes' stunned expression, but never quite understood what.

 

 _Now he knew._ And Heyes had never let on.


	2. two

Kid sat up abruptly, throwing off his hat.

"What in blue blazes!" Heyes jerked back in surprise and dropped the pot of coffee, spilling hot liquid down his pants leg. "Damn it all, Kid, go and scare a fella like that!" he yelled, hopping around with his left leg in the air. "It's boiling!"

"Take 'em off!" Kid scrambled over to him and yanked at Heyes' gun belt. Fumbling with the buckles while Heyes cursed and fussed sent a sudden heat through Kid's groin and it had nothing whatsoever to do with the boiling coffee. "Heyes, would you stand still for a minute?" he groused, dropping the heavy, bullet-studded belt to the ground to get to the second belt holding up Heyes' pants.

"I'll do it!" Heyes panted, hissing with the pain. He went down hard on the saddle lying next to the fire, giving Kid the opportunity to pull off his boots while Heyes got his pants off.

There was a large, angry red patch on Heyes' right thigh, just above the knee. It hadn't blistered, but Kid took no chances. Grabbing up the empty cup Heyes had dropped, Kid scooped up water out of the river and dashed it over the wound.

"Judas!" Heyes sputtered with a gasp. "What the hell did you do that for? That water's colder'n a witch's tit."

Suddenly spent, Kid started to laugh. It was quite obvious that Heyes wasn't seriously injured, although he could have been. Seeing him sitting there, with his pants around his ankles and his drawers all wet and hiked up to expose the reddened thigh was too funny.

He couldn't help it, Kid was struck with such a fit of laughter that he could barely breathe. Every time he looked over at his fuming partner, he burst out with another paroxysm of hysterical laughter.

"You want to tell me what you think is so funny?" Heyes asked sourly, pressing gingerly at the scalded area. "That's a damned sight different than you were all night."

Kid wiped at his eyes, trying to take a steady breath past the fizzy little chuckles that kept bubbling up. "You're right, Heyes, that river's pure snow melt. It's like ice."

"Which is why you decided to pour it down the front of me?" Heyes tightened his lips, but he could never hide a smile. Those dimples deepened with every twitch of his mouth.

"Looks like you'll live. No need to call the undertaker just yet," Kid said, crouching to examine the red, blotchy spot more closely. He brushed his hand over Heyes' heated skin up near the groin and was startled to feel something hard poke against his hand. He tried to hide his surprise—his raw interest--but when he glanced up, Heyes was looking directly at him. "Heyes?"

"The cold water…" Heyes said lamely, without moving. He never broke eye contact.

"Seems to me that cold water usually makes a man…" Kid started, his own cock swelling to fill his trousers to the overflowing. "Shrink."

"Doesn't look like the snowmelt had that impact on you." Heyes looked down, directly at Kid's erection.

"I didn't—fall in the river," Kid faltered. How far was Heyes going to let this go? It was perilously close to flirting, the prelude to something they'd never be able to back away from.

Because, he wanted Heyes pressed up against him something awful. He could almost feel that impressive length trying to escape from Heyes' underclothes pushed up against his own. Could feel the heat and friction. It would surely scorch his flesh.

"You want to?" Heyes gave him a playful shove that sent Kid onto his backside.

"It's cold enough out here!" Kid protested. With the adrenaline rush subsiding, he could feel the autumnal air against his face. The temperature was dipping the closer they got to the mountains. "I reckon on rolling up in my blankets…." Belatedly, he realized just what he'd said.

"To share body heat?" Heyes grinned wolfishly.

From his position on the cold ground, Kid had Heyes' groin was eye level. It was an eyeful, sure enough. Kid sucked in a breath that only made his head spin. Where was this going? This wasn't exactly what he'd expected as a post-heist celebration, although he wasn't opposed to the idea. Just uncertain how to proceed.

"You all right?" Heyes asked more tenderly. "You look like you been pole-axed."

"I feel like it," Kid admitted. His heart was trip-hammering so fast he was dizzy.

"You surely do." Heyes cupped his hand over Kid's throbbing groin, his dark eyes dancing with firelight. Kid gasped and pushed into his palm. "Do you want to?"

"Want to what?" How did Heyes expect the Kid to speak when he was doing such amazing things to his manhood? Even through the thick fabric of his trousers, not to mention his unmentionables, Kid could feel the warmth of Heyes' hand, and it was damned fine.

"Share some body heat," Heyes repeated. "Your ears stopped up?"

"Something like that." Kid shifted his eyes to the right, away from Heyes' erection. The redness on his thigh seemed to be fading, but in the campfire light, it was hard to tell. On an impulse, he leaned over and pressed his cheek to the fiery skin, kissing the curve of his leg very gently. Heyes tightened his grasp on Kid's groin and kissed the back of his head.

"I've been waiting, Kid…" Heyes whispered into his ear, and Kid didn't have a bit of trouble hearing that.

Turning his face up to meet Heyes, Kid found his lips as if it was the most natural thing on earth. Their kiss felt elemental, like the change of seasons or the monthly progression of the moon. He rose up, pulling Heyes to him so that their cocks came together, two rutting stags butting horns. The collision was spectacular, shooting sparks into the night sky, setting off a primal urge in Kid that he couldn't stop. He felt his completion to the top of his head and the tips of his toes.

Heyes whooped loudly, a rebel yell harking back to those spontaneous days when they used to strip naked and jump into the stream behind Kid's home just for the sheer fun of it. Kid could still see Heyes' lanky teenaged body, his legs and arms still growing in proportion to his torso, and his cock hanging free when he grabbed a rope to swing out over the water to dive in again.

He'd always known this beautiful body, and yet had rediscovered it all over again.

"You're…" Kid started, not quite sure what he was planning to say but wanting to get out all the feelings, the mixed-up, excited passions inside him.

"Ssh," Heyes said and kissed him again, long and slow and deep. "I know, Kid, I know."

Kid shivered, finally able to breathe again. He wanted to keep kissing Heyes and never stop. It was such a strange and wonderful idea, but fraught with danger. Most relevant was that they'd just relieved the Madison City Bank of twenty thousand dollars and had to keep an eye out for pursuers. "Think we should get into the blankets before the two of us freeze our privates off?"

Heyes laughed, his whole face wreathed in dimples. "Never knew you were quite so wise, Kid." He ran his fingers down Kid's face, thumbing his lower lip as if contemplating kissing it again. "As much as this…revelation sent my wits spinning like a tornado, one of us does need to keep watch for the night."

"I ain't planning on sleeping, Heyes." Kid pulled him over to the twisted blankets he'd abandoned so suddenly.

"You're the one making plans now?" Heyes asked, appropriating the blanket as his own.

"Hey!" Kid grabbed at him and Heyes hopped nimbly away, swirling the blanket around himself. "Didn't you say something about shared body heat?"

"That's one of the things I always loved about you, Kid, you listen to me." Heyes tucked the trailing ends of his impromptu cape under one arm and scooped up his own blanket roll from the pile of saddlebags. "I always share the wealth. This just…"

"Isn't the time," Kid said with regret. "Or the place."

"Yeah." Heyes sobered, sitting down next to Kid by the fire. They leaned against one another, shoulder to shoulder, comfortable and familiar.

Kid could recall hundreds of other times he'd sat like this with Heyes, nestled by a fire, out under a velvet night sky, playing cards by the fitful light or just content to jaw on about one thing or another. Usually it was Heyes talking—about his latest hand of cards, whatever book he was reading or a scheme to make money. Kid was used to listening to him, and watching his hands dance in the air when he described a new way to crack a safe or stop a stagecoach. But now there was a new awareness, something much more powerful because he wanted to have Heyes close and touch him all over.

It felt contrary, but at the same time, wonderful.

"You said you'd been waiting?" Kid said at last, staring into the orange-yellow heart of the fire until he felt like the fire had seared onto his eyelids.

Heyes shrugged, the blanket bunching up around his shoulders. "Think you can make another pot of coffee? There are still some beans in the grinder."

"You trust me to make your coffee?" Kid asked. He knew what Heyes was doing—stalling for time, trying to come up with a strategy. As long as he didn't bluff; Kid wanted the straight deal.

"I've trusted you with much more over the years," Heyes answered, also in a joking manner, but there was serious intent in his eyes. He huddled under the blanket, half dressed and looking surprisingly vulnerable.

Rinsing out the pot in the river, Kid refilled it and added the coffee grounds once again. Old habits, something he could do without thinking, so that he could watch Heyes, study him. What had changed? Why now, why this place? What made everything different?

As if Heyes could hear what the Kid was thinking, he said, "I've been trying to figure out just when I saw you differently." He squinted into the fire and then raised his chin, meeting Kid's eyes. "All my life, you were there, right beside me, like a part of me I wasn't born with, but grew to need, just the same. The war, the orphanage, then those years in Kansas City when we were just trying to grow up…that's all past and gone." The tip of his tongue rested on his bottom lip for a second while he thought. "I expect I tried too hard, Kid, to be something I was not—the leader."

"Seems to me you lead those reprobates up at Devil's Hole just fine. Nobody else could get them to follow like you do." Kid poked more sticks into the fire, sending out sparks that flared and died in an instant on the dirt.

"I suspect Wheat would disagree with you there. But for the two of us, I shouldn't have acted like I was in charge of you." Heyes frowned, an unnatural expression for him because it smoothed out the dimples, giving him the face of an angelic undertaker. "Months back, just after you recovered from the pneumonia that laid you out for so long, I watched you set up some cans to practice shooting. Nothing unusual."

"I do that just about every day," Kid agreed, not sure where this was going, but content to listen. He tested the coffee pot. It was good and hot, but the water wasn't quite to the boiling point; just right. Wrapping a bandana around the handle, he poured out two fragrant cups of coffee.

"That's just it!" Heyes nodded emphatically. "It wasn't anything special. The snow was melting through the pass and I knew we'd be able get out in a day or two, and the Southern Pacific railroad was due through Harrisburg with a load by the end of the week, so you'd think I'd have that on my mind, but instead, I kept watching you."

Kid sipped steaming coffee to hide his smile. Just as he'd done today. Suddenly seeing the familiar with different eyes.

"And I couldn't figure out why." Heyes went on, his voice both soft and deep, the voice Kid sometimes heard in his dreams, his conscience. _Heyes._

"I was surely grateful that you'd survived that damned fever, but that wasn't it precisely. It wasn't until we got down into town, and went into the saloon. You know Maisie, thinks the sun rises and sets on your fair head?"

"She does not!" Kid aimed a kick at Heyes, but missed by a mile. It was almighty difficult to kick a person while sitting Indian style. "She's lonely for her family back East."

"She dotes on you, Kid." Heyes grinned, and it was like all the stars in the sky collected to shine out of his eyes light up that irrepressible, irresistible, unmistakable grin.

A jolt of pure happiness shot straight through Kid, finishing at his groin. He had to shift on his haunches and dig one heel into his suddenly throbbing member to relieve some of the ache. How in the hell did Heyes do that to him?

"I was between hands at a poker game, watching the two of you bill and coo like a couple of love birds…"

"You should be writing penny dreadfuls!" Kid groaned.

"And just when I was dealt a straight flush, all hearts, I went all over gooseflesh, like somebody was walking on my grave." Heyes' expression went soft, and then he laughed at himself, both amused and embarrassed. "I was doting on you, too. Not like some second cousin on your ma's side, but like a suitor who had a mind to come courting with a fistful of daisies."

"You were jealous?" Kid couldn't fathom why Heyes would be jealous of Maisie, of all women. She was sweet, with a pock-marked face and the hands of a milkmaid. Nothing like the long, slender fingers that enthralled him each and every time Heyes took off his gloves.

"Don't you start laughing at me, again!" Heyes shook a finger at him.

"Me?" Kid pretended to be affronted, but in truth, he was delighted. However it had happened, Maisie had turned Heyes toward him. "You should take Maisie the bouquet of daisies as a thank you," he said, grabbing hold of Heyes' corduroy vest to pull him closer. Heyes didn't protest in the slightest, and when their lips met, his tongue slid between Kid's, as slick and as smooth as silver, just the way Kid had always described it to be. "Sounds like she was the matchmaker here."

"What remains here is what are we gonna do about it?" Heyes asked, clasping the back of Kid's neck and playing with the curls that fell over his collar. "Ain't like most folk are gonna take too kindly to a couple of cowboys groping in each other's jeans."

"Now who's throwing cold water?" Kid pulled back, anger coiling in his chest. He wasn't angry at Heyes, not really. Just that, once again, he and Heyes were on the outside looking in, committing illegal acts in complete disregard of the consequences.

"Bringing the pot down to a simmer." Heyes glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Not even three hours ago, we robbed a bank, and we ain't in the clear, yet."

"Tell me something I don't know!" Kid exploded, bounding to his feet to stalk abound the campfire. He kicked the pile of branches and twigs Heyes had piled for extra firewood, scattering the wood across the clearing. His head was beginning to pound and he was more than exhausted, but too jumpy with post-robbery adrenaline, not to mention kissing Heyes, to relax now. "Tell me something I can hold onto until…"

"Denver, Kid," Heyes said in that way of his that was both amused and knowing. "No Clementine, just us. We got all winter to…" He put out a hand, brushing his fingers along the seam of the Kid's Levis, obviously wanting so much more himself. "To figure out what we have and how to make it work."

"That's exactly the point, Heyes!" Kid said in frustration, but his ire was winding down. He thrust some of the deadwood into the flames, watching it catch fire with a perverse sense of satisfaction. Destruction that also produced light and warmth.

Loving Heyes was supposed to be wrong in so many ways, but it gave him a warmth, and yes, a light inside that wouldn't diminish just because the Bible thumpers said it was a sin. How could something that felt so right be wrong? "We gotta hide it from everybody—the gang." He punched the air, already hearing the taunts from Wheat, Kyle and the rest of them. "People we've known mosta our lives…the law." He sat heavily beside Heyes, weary of the drama. "And I'm already really tired of hiding from the law. Having to carry two secrets is gonna make it that much more of a burden."

"If that's how you feel then maybe we just leave what happened here in the middle of Wyoming, lost in the foothills, and don't speak of it again," Heyes said, with the same neutral tone he used when playing a hand he knew wouldn't win but he was obliged to play to stay in the game.

"You know it isn't!" Kid shouted at him, even though Heyes was inches away.

Heyes didn't move, just accepted what Kid was throwing at him and then, improbably, lifted his hand to trace the line of Kid's cheek, running the back of his knuckles against the stubble. Kid let out his pent up breath, closing his eyes at the sensation of Heyes' leather glove against his skin.

He'd always liked the smell of leather, the supple and surprisingly sensual feeling of it. Leather was masculine and strong, but when tanned just right, as soft as a baby's butt. Women didn't wear leather, not very often anyway, and he could smell that particular scent that was all Heyes— dark musk, sweat, gun oil and coffee with a bit of horse mingled into the perfume of the leather. He got hard breathtakingly fast.

"Oh, damn," Kid whispered, dropping his forehead onto Heyes' shoulder.

"Yeah," Heyes chuckled, leaning in to nuzzle and nip at his ear. "Can't fight what's inevitable, Kid."

A thrill ran down Kid's spine and he almost pulled away, but what Heyes was doing felt too good. And he wanted it, awful bad.

Heyes folded the blanket around the both of them, drawing them together. "You can stand and fight—cause it's your nature to be ornery, but this thing'll run you over you like a steam engine rolling over the prairie. Better to raise your arms and surrender."

"I don't surrender," Kid muttered as Heyes pushed him onto the bed roll. He caught hold of Heyes' arms, not to drive him away but to anchor himself.

"No, you never did," Heyes agreed, methodically going after the buttons on Kid's fly.

The heavy fabric was wet from Kid's climax, making the button holes stiff, and Heyes was uncharacteristically clumsy until he paused to strip the leather gloves off his hands.

Kid groaned, his erection throbbing at the sight. Heyes couldn't possibly have any idea how that aroused him, could he? It was just a simple routine, as ordinary as getting undressed.

Dropping the gloves onto Kid's chest, Heyes got the buttons undone much faster bare fingered. Kid grinned, Heyes was unlocking his jeans just like he'd cracked the safe earlier in the evening. Spreading his knees to give the talented thief better access, Kid inhaled the scent of leather. Was this how women felt when they were about to be plundered? Nervous and excited at the same time? Saloon girls generally sucked his member off, rather than get penetrated, but he'd never believed that Heyes would do the same. This was like some erotic dream come to life.

In the firelight, Heyes' aquiline features flickered bright and dark like the fairy creature Kid had imagined him to be; the fairy king having his way with a mere mortal, casting a spell in the night.

Heyes dipped his head, his eyes glowing like banked coals and unfastened the last button, freeing Kid's erection from its cotton prison. When the cold night air hit his privates, Kid gasped, but that was nothing to the astonishing sensation when Heyes closed his fingers around the shaft.

"Sweet Jesus!" Kid cried out.

"Get your mouth washed out with soap, you say that again," Heyes admonished with a mischievous grin.

"Heyes!" Kid managed through gritted teeth. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff and rocks were already tumbling down the slope. He yearned to dive into the canyon below and fly free, holding Heyes' hand all the way down.

"You want this?" Heyes asked soberly, despite his merriment. "I ain't going where you don't want to go."

"You're the one with the silver tongue and the nimble fingers, dammit!" Kid croaked, every ounce of him vibrating with the strain. He felt Heyes' grip tighten on his member. "Use them!"

Heyes' mouth engulfing his penis was like submerging into a hot spring; sweat broke out all down Kid's back. He bucked upwards, wanting to go deeper, until the water was over his head and he was floating. Kid stared between his legs at the amazing sight of his partner sucking him off, those gorgeous dimples like parentheses around Heyes' mouth, emphasizing his prowess. Because, in Kid's humble opinion, Heyes was better at sucking cock than he was at playing poker.

He found the gloves on his chest and pulled them to his nose, to smell the arousing scent, high on the moment. Heyes did something extraordinary with his tongue that jerked Kid out of himself and shot him into the sky, rolling and tumbling through the Milky Way, bouncing off the moon before he dropped back earthward.

"Sent me t'heaven," he whispered, tugging Heyes down to him in the twist of blankets.

"Just a matter of finding the right combination, listening to the tumblers drop into place," Heyes said against his mouth, smiling through the kiss.

"I don't think there's a posse after us, d'you?" Kid asked sleepily. He was boneless, curled into Heyes and very, very content. The thought of pursuers was a distant concern, vague enough to be unreal.

"Nah, it's Sunday. The day of rest. What God fearin' posse would come after us when they should be sitting in a hard wooden pew listening to a fire and brimstone sermon on disobeyin' the ten commandments?" Heyes tucked the blankets around the two of them to hold in the body heat, then lay against Kid with a long sigh. "We're free, Kid, and I ain't about to let another body tell me what I can or can't do."

"So says the great Hannibal Heyes." Kid smiled, closing his eyes. He could feel Heyes' cheek muscles dip and contract, and saw the resulting dimpled smile in his mind's eye.

"He's been known to have a good idea or two," Heyes said lazily. "You ready to go to Denver?"

"After a nap. The horses need to rest a spell." Kid drifted off with the crackle and spark of the fire his lullaby, and Heyes always at his side.

 

FIN


End file.
